Frerard I'll Never Let Them Get Me Alive
by xxxHazardHeartxxx
Summary: Gerard and Frank have been together for a year now, and someone - or something - has been watching them, and listening to them. This Frerard shows romance, crime, and suspense as the two men realize this world is more of a jungle than they realize...
1. Gazelles And Lions

GERARD'S POV:

Most kids say school is a prison. A hellhole.

But it's not.

School is a zoo. We are all the animals, being watched, and controlled by the fairly untrained zookeepers. The zookeepers are the teachers. They stalk us like we will attack any moment, like we are getting ready to pounce. The classroom is a cage. School must be more like a zoo than I realize, because it smells in here. I mean, it _really _smells in this cage.

What animal am I, you ask? Why, I am a gazelle.

Gazelles live in the jungle, always getting hunted down and preyed upon by vicious lions. But they can never get me because I am too lean… too quick. I run away at the last second, sparing my face from being batted and sliced by those huge paws.

Who are the lions? Everyone else. I always was their target. I will always be their target. I seem so vulnerable, so easy to break, and I am. But I am too keen to get eaten by the lions.

Gazelles don't get eaten. At least, not this gazelle.

Today, I am trying to be a well-behaved gazelle, so I sit quietly and restlessly twirl my pencil in between my first and second finger. Sighing conspicuously, I glance at the clock. To my obvious disappointment, the minute hand only moved 1/60 of a fraction since the last time I saw it.

For the mathematically challenged, it means it has only been one minute.

One. Long. Dreadful. Horrid. Minute.

Zookeeper Freeman goes through a whole other speech on how this Punnett guy developed the Punnett Square to predict the genotypes of *blah, blah, blah*.

Okay, so the whole, "being a good gazelle" plan isn't working out. I decide on breaking the silence.

"Mr. F, can I go use the restroom?" I ask, bouncing my knee up and down.

The zookeeper glances at my knee, and then stares back at my restless face. He finally realized that he forgot to answer, so he shook his head to 'snap out of it', I guess you could say. "Sure, yeah, that's fine."

Idiot.

I grabbed all of my belongings, and sighed greatly when the door shut behind my back. As to why no one noticed that I took _everything _to the bathroom with me, beats me.

I walk to the entrance that had no zoo monitors and walked straight out without hesitation. I must have walked forever because I when I got home, school was about to be dismissed without me.

You didn't _actually _think I was going to the bathroom right?


	2. I Love The Way You

FRANK'S POV:

I was sleeping on Gerard's couch when he finally came back. He woke me up by pecking my forehead, and I instantly went red. When I opened my eyes, Gerard was three inches away from my face. All he did was smile nicely and walk out of the living room, with me trailing behind.

"Took you long enough!" I joked, rubbing my eyes awake.

He knew I didn't mind if he was a little late, because he knew I would wait forever for him. It's true. I could sit on that couch and wait a week for him to return, and I wouldn't care, as long as he came back to me.

"I almost didn't come at all, I had forgotten that you were waiting for me. Sorry about that, by the way," he said, apologetically, "wont happen again!" He chuckled a small, cute chuckle, and I couldn't help but blush.

"Ah, no worries," I waved his apology away, "that doesn't matter. You're here now."

I walked into the kitchen where he was pouring a bowl of cereal. I took him gently by the hair, and pulled it so his face would be facing mine. He looked at me and smiled with those famous hazel eyes. Using my free hand, I tugged him down to my level by the back of his neck, and kissed him passionately on the lips. Gerard kissed back in the same way, holding his hands on my waist. We kissed harder, until we mutually pulled away, smiling.

"How was school?" I asked, trying to prevent an awkward silence that usually followed these types of situations.

"Same. Some jerks called me a fag, got pushed around a little, you know, usual stuff. I'm used to it. Except this time, a new guy had the balls to say to me, 'I'm gonna bug you,' whatever the hell that means."

"What do you think he means by that? Like he's gonna annoy you or something?" I was curious by what the new guy said.

"I don't know, I think. But why would he say that he is going to bug me? There's no point in _telling _me that you are gonna annoy me, because that kinda ruins the fun," Gerard looked like he was reviewing what he said, then continued, "I mean, ruins _his _fun."

"I'm sorry you have to go through that, no matter if you are used to it or not. They don't have the right to do that to you," I tried to comfort him so he could be less upset. He was pretty casual about that kind of stuff, but I could tell this 'new guy' was worrying him. He worried me too.

"I know, but who's going to stop them? Come on, let's go to my room," Gerard stuffed his cereal-filled spoon into his mouth, and smacked as he walked towards the basement. I followed behind, until we reached his door. Gerard had many unnecessary locks, and had to unlock all of them to get inside his dark room. They were quite time consuming.

As we entered his bedroom, he sat down on the edge of his mattress, playing with his jet-black hair. He tangled his fingers into it, and then fluffed it out into an imperfectly perfect shape. It was so cute when he did that, I couldn't help but stare.

I sat down in the chair that he used to draw in. "I love you, you know that?" I had said 'I love you' to him so many times before, but I like to remind him, just so he knows I do. I love him with every fiber of my being. We had been together for 364 days, so that makes tomorrow our anniversary.

Gerard looked stunned, but flattered, at my sudden remark and replied with a simple, "Huh?"

"I love the way you look when you draw. I love the way you mess with your hair. I love the way you chew your gum so loudly. I love the way you wear your sunglasses inside. I love the way you smile. I love the way you laugh. I love the way your eyes light up when you get an idea," my voice was slow as I walked towards the bed to join him, "I love the way you kiss me," I pulled him down next to me, so that he was laying on his side, facing me.

We kissed again, slower that time. His lips tasted like cereal. I didn't care. I pulled away, so I could take the sunglasses off of his face. He pulled me back into the kiss, and I twirl my fingers through his short hair. Gerard ran his hand up my back, and then back down again, finally resting on my hip.

We stayed that way for a long time. Gerard finally stopped and looked me deep in the eyes. "What?" I said, smiling wide.

"You never gave me the chance to tell you what I love about you," he smiled, "I love the way you giggle. I love the way you play pranks on me. I love the way you tell jokes. I love the way you listen to me. I love the way you are always there for me. I love the way you blush," Gerard stroked my cheek, "I love the way you hug. I love the way you are patient with me. I love the way little things aggravate you a bit. I love the way you walk. I love everything about you, Frankie." He pecked me on the forehead.

"I'd never replace you for anything in the world, Gee," a tear ran out and onto the pillow.

"Neither would I replace you," he said sweetly, and then hugged me around the neck. I let my face rest against his chest.

We fell asleep that way, hugging.


	3. Six Seventeen

GERARD'S POV:

I woke up to the smell of coffee, and realized that Frankie and I were still in the same embrace that we dozed off in.

Only this time, my room felt different. Like it was intruded, or something. Maybe my mom came in my room in the middle of the night to check on me? Yeah, that must've been it.

My mom and dad know about Frankie and I, and surprisingly, they are _so _supportive. They should literally get an award. I'm thankful of that, because I didn't have to hide this huge secret, and didn't have to have my guard up whenever Frankie was over.

"Hey," I whispered into Frankie's hair, where I imagined his ear to be, "Hey," I repeated. He still wouldn't budge. I shook him a little, and then I grinned, "_Coffffeeee…_" I whispered in a lower, more far-away voice. His eyes opened gradually, still showing a bit of grogginess.

"_Gee…_" he whispered. It was hot. "Get me some, _pleaseeee_…" his eyes started drooping again. I giggled at his attempt to keep them open. He eventually was defeated.

"Anything for you," I shrugged Frank off of me, and I stretched as I shuffled off my bed, "Do you need anything else?" I bent down and pressed my lips to his softly, but he was too tired to respond too much. I understood that.

I pulled away, my face still lingering in front of his until he opened his eyes a little. A smirk spread across his face as he stared into my eyes. He bent forward to fill the small gap in between us, and pecked me shortly on the lips. I loved waking him up that way. It was kind of a little thing I did.

"No, thank you, though," he managed to mumble.

I stole a glance at my alarm clock. For some reason, the time was stuck on 6:17am. That was weird. I pulled out my wristwatch from my drawer so I can find the time to fix my clock to, but my watch was also stuck on 6:17. What the fuck? I got a little freaked out, but decided it was coincidence, and continued on to the kitchen.

"Hello," my cheerful mother greeted me, "What are you up to?"

"Fixing me and Frank some coffee, if you don't mind?" I asked my mom, because she loved coffee as much as Frank and I did. And you don't mess with the woman's coffee.

"Sure, yeah, that's no problem," she shot me a kind smile, and continued on to read the newspaper.

I fixed Frank's coffee just the way he liked it, and soon did the same for myself. Walking back to my room, I gave my mother an 'I love you' before closing the door behind me.

Frankie propped himself on a pillow leaning against the wall, and I sat his mug down on the table next to where he was. His eyes practically _beamed _with relief as he took in the aroma of his caffeinated poison. As if savoring the moment, Frank closed his eyes as his lips grazed the rim of the mug, letting the coffee run through his mouth. It was like he was _seducing _the mug.

I laughed, "If you only used that kind of passion when we kiss!" I joked. If anything, he pours his heart and soul into every touch whenever we're together.

"Ha, ha," he mocked with a smirk, "very funny, Mr. Stand-up Comedian!" Despite his sarcasm, he laughed with me.

I walked over to his lovely face and whispered, "_Happy Anniversary, love…_" My lips collided with his as I kissed him with as much emotion as I could muster. He seemed to do the same to me, as well. We kissed harder for a while, until he broke the kiss to say, "Happy Anniversary, Gerard Way. I love you," he cooed.

"I love you, too, Frank Iero, and _that _is why I spent three months on a painting for you! It's over here," sipping on my Heaven-In-A-Glass, I sat at my desk, overlooking my drawings. I flipped through all of them, in search for the right one.

"You didn't have to do that, Gee! Now my gift is going to look like crap!" He was both playful and serious as he said that statement.

"Frankie, I don't need anything more to start with. You _alone _are the best gift I could ever receive. Never think I would love you less because of a silly gift," as mushy and gushy as that sounded, I scattered through all of my sketches, ideas, and paintings until I came across the one I made for Frank.

The painting consisted of two angels with their back towards whoever is looking at the painting. The angels were guys, and their hands were handcuffed together. They were at the foot of a dark and dreary forest, with evil, illuminating eyes scattered everywhere. Their wings were large and outstretched, and they had no shirts on. Just black pants and wings. But they seemed ready. Ready to take on the demons that were lurking in the forest, prepared to kill them all. They weren't, however, ready to let the other angel die.

The two angels were Frankie and I.

I smiled at my work, and then proudly slipped it over to Frank. He was tearing up as he realized the meaning of the painting. "It's so… It's so _perfect_… and _beautiful_."

"I knew you'd like it," I grinned at his emotional face. He flipped the painting over to see if there was anything on the back. Frank's face then became puzzled.

"Uh, Gee, why is the number 617 on the back? What does it mean?"

"Wait, what?" I startled him with my urgency, "are you joking?" He handed the painting back to me, and sure enough, the number 617 was painted in red, "Thank God whoever did this was courteous enough to not ruin the painting," I was being sarcastic. Letting out a scared sigh, I gave Frankie his painting back.

"Gerard, what's going on?" Frank pushed.

"This morning, I woke up, and my alarm clock was stuck on the time 6:17. So was my watch. Now this," I was literally scared out of my mind, "Frank, someone was here."

I watched as Frank's face turned from one of confusion to one of horror. It scared me that he was afraid. I never want him to feel afraid to be around me. Ever. "Who?" He asked, his fear evident.

"I-… I don't know," I sat down next to Frankie and I hugged him, trying to shrug off the bad feelings, "Come on, let's go somewhere fun."


	4. What Happens When We Walk

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, the website was being a butthole and didn't want to upload my stories, so yeah. Enjoy!**

FRANK'S POV:

I shuddered at the pure thought of someone being in this room without our knowledge. What did they want? Who was it? Why did they choose Gerard to intrude? What does 617 mean?

As these questions ran around in my brain, I was unfazed by Gee's request.

"Frank, what's wrong, hun?" He knew exactly what. And he wasn't good at hiding the fact that he was afraid as well.

Gerard's face was of happiness, but his eyes were flooded with the terror that lurked in the room. His room seemed contaminated now. So much, to where it was almost tangible. Right along with our fear, that is.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. Let's just enjoy the day, all right? Today is _our _day, so what do you have in mind?" Gerard's hopefulness gave me a sense of relief, and I smiled a little at the fact that he was so persistent in going somewhere.

"I'm not too sure. Maybe we can go to that restaurant you always wanted to go to. It seems really nice, and we can be alone since it isn't ever crowded," I suggested. The restaurant was just fifteen minutes away from Gerard's house.

"That sounds amazing! Shouldn't we save that for dinner, though…? What do we do until then?" He gave me a sexy smirk, but I knew it was just a little joke. I laughed at the face he made while he smiled at me.

I kind of wanted to walk around in the fall breeze, being that it was so beautiful. "How about a nice walk? It's so pretty outside. We can figure out our other plans then," Gee seemed to like the idea, so we changed our clothes and put on our converse.

Walking out of the Way's house, I jogged down the steps in sync with Gerard's feet. We both walked slowly down the sidewalk that traced Salter Street. "I love you," he randomly said sweetly.

Blushing, I responded, "I love you, too," as I said this, Gerard grabbed my hand in his. We both walked in silence down the empty, golden leaf littered road, unknowing of our destination.

The wind whipped Gerard's long black hair across his face, but he didn't care. I decided on smoothing it out of his eyes, and he smiled at me as my hand grazed the tip of his nose. As if we shared the same mind, we both looked around carefully to see if anyone was watching, and then he pulled me in for a short, innocent kiss.

We walked for a couple minutes more, and found ourselves in front of his high school. He stopped and dropped my hand. Gerard looked up at the brick building, looking at it like it was a bad memory, even though he didn't finish it yet.

I had dropped out that year, and I wasn't exactly proud of myself.

Gerard looked it up and down, and then comically shot it a big fat middle finger. I smiled. He dropped his hand back to his side. Gee turned to me; his face was serious.

"Frank, do you think I should quit?" He was genuine with his question, seriously considering the possibility.

I thought through his question, and then carefully answered, "Have you seen what it has done to me? I won't be able to get any good jobs, or buy a car of my own, or even a house. It will be difficult. I know that. I knew it when I quit, but I just couldn't do it, Gerard. High school almost killed me," Gerard lowered his eyes at the ground and rolled a pebble around with the toe of his shoe, remembering _that day, _"There are times when you know it's best that you quit. But I want you to hold on for as long as you can. Ever since my incident, I knew I couldn't stay at school. But you, Gerard? You have talent. You can get somewhere in life. I want you to finish high school, then go to art school."

He looked at me with a large smile and said, "I will."

I shot a smile back at him and we continued to stride down the street, taking in the vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges of the trees. We must have walked for maybe thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes of holding Gerard's hand. Thirty minutes of exchanging smiles. Thirty minutes of pedestrians giving weird looks. Thirty minutes of little kids smiling at our intertwining fingers.

My feet were hurting as I stopped to rest in front of a small gas station. Gerard sat next to me on the cement drop off leading to the front door of the shop. "Exhausted?" He asked, apparently exhausted in his own self. Resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his fists, he sighed in relief.

"Yeah, you wanna take the bus back?" I asked, hoping he'd say yes.

"Sure, I'm up for it. There's a stop right up the road, and the bus should be coming in about five minutes," he stopped to check his silver watch, squinting at it. He nodded in confirmation, "Yeah, we should start walking."

We both bounded up and started up the street, until we reached the metal bench. A roof made of metal, with plastic ads displayed on its sides, sheltered it. Several "Lost Puppy" posters were taped on various spots. I admired the puppy photos for the remaining minutes until our bus came. The dogs were quite adorable.

We paid our tolls, marched to the back of the bus, and rode back to his house in silence. Not a bad silence, but the silence where you both know that there is nothing to say, and you just enjoy each others company.

Once we got back to Gerard's house, we locked ourselves in his room once more. I laughed and then jumped on his bed, snuggling the pillows and blankets. I felt so happy to lie down. All of my muscles relaxed and I closed my eyes, grinning widely.

I heard Gerard laugh. He snuck into the open space next to me and we slipped under his comforter. He breathed out, "You can fall asleep if you want to, Frankie,"

I went red in the face, but kept my eyes closed, "Okay, _Gee_," I mumbled back, tiredly.

Gerard slipped closer and then pecked my lips. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and with his free hand, played with my hair until he fell asleep, too.

I had a nightmare during our sleep. I was watching a television screen. On it was Gerard in a white room. But he wasn't the same. He was hurt, and evidently in pain, as he cried out for help. But he didn't need help, because where he was, was an asylum. I knew because he was wearing a straight jacket. It was as white as the walls in the room. The only color in the room was his black hair. He kept yelling for anyone to help him. I found myself crying in the chair I sat in, watching Gerard get tortured. "Frankie…?" He said more distantly, more desperately. I sobbed even more, because I couldn't help him. He was broken beyond repair and I couldn't mend him back up.


	5. You're Too Sassy

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, again. I'm lucky to even have this chapter up right now. Anyways, thank you guys for reading! I love responding to reviews, so don't be shy. Every review counts! By the way, my username is no longer yourxstarlessxeyesxremain. It's xxxHazardHeartxxx.**

GERARD'S POV:

I woke up to Frank's muffled screams, and I shook him awake. "Frankie," I whispered. He clenched his eyes more tightly then covered his face with his palms, still sleeping. Frank let out another covered squeal. "Frankie, what's wrong?" I shook him harder, worried.

Frankie then woke up, his eyes open wide and his mouth the same. He looked at me, scared out of his mind. After he saw my face he relaxed a little, then rolled over on his back to face the ceiling. "Oh, sorry, Gee," he sighed, "I just had a nightmare," His voice trailed off.

"Tell me about it," I suggested. I sat up so I could look over him and Frank closed his eyes, but not in sleepiness. It was like he didn't want to look at me. I cocked my head to the side much like a dog would. Frank saw this through his slightly closed eyes, then managed to put on a nervous smirk. Something was bothering him.

"I don't think you want to hear it, though," he breathed out.

"Of course I do!" I said hopefully.

"No… You don't," He looked me straight in the eye; he knew he was defeated. He sighed then sat up. While Frank told me about his nightmare, I couldn't stop gaping at him.

"What do you think it means…?" I was completely confused and frightened by what he saw. Maybe he was just still freaked out by the whole "617" thing earlier.

Frank shrugged. It was about 5:30 according to my alarm clock, which was, by the way, attuned back to normal time again. "We should get ready for dinner, huh?"

I nodded, and then we both set off to change into nicer clothes. Nicer clothes meaning jeans with no rips and shirts with no stains. To be honest, it was the most formal I've dressed since my grandmother died. I decided on a Rolling Stones t-shirt Frank had gotten me for my birthday that year.

Frank walked out of the bathroom fastening his belt around his dark jeans. His face was still side tracked from his dream, and I couldn't help but notice that he wouldn't look me in the eyes. He tended to look downward or towards the walls.

"Baby, just forget about it for now," I said softly, trying to comfort him. I flashed a smile at him that showed no teeth, "It's our anniversary. We need to have fun. Its 5:45, and there's a perfectly good restaurant that will serve us a perfectly good dinner on this perfectly good night."

My little pep talk seemed to lighten up his worries. As he smoothed out his Misfits t-shirt, he looked up at me. His stuck his hands in his pockets, leaving his thumb dangling out, then smiled. Frank's eyes bored into mine for the first time that evening. His short hair framed his face so perfectly, and his small figure stood there, rocking on its heels.

I couldn't resist myself, "I need you to tell me one thing, though," I said as seriously as possible.

His face dropped at the urgency of my tone, "Yes, of course, anything," I could tell he was worried by the way his mouth hung slightly open as his eyes searched mine for any signs of a problem. Right where I wanted him.

I smiled, "Why?"

Frank was puzzled, and copied my motion earlier of cocking my head to the side.

"Why are you so f**king adorable? Like, seriously, everything you do is super f**king cute, and I can't see how you do it," pulling him in for a kiss, I heard him giggle.

I felt his cheeks burn in my palms as I held his face with both hands. Frank smiled into the kiss. That only made me want him more. I kissed his lips more firmly than before, to which he mirrored. I dropped my hands from his face and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer. He held his hands on my hips as we stood in the middle of my room, embracing each other. After the kiss ended, we still stood there the same way, but I rested my forehead on his. We were both panting.

Frankie smiled at me, "Okay, you won, I feel better,"

"Yay, my Frankie is happy now," I giggled like a four-year-old girl, but really, what's new? "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. I grabbed my wallet and my black hoodie, and noticed that he was rummaging through my drawer to get his wallet as well. "Oh, no you don't," I ordered, "Tonight's on _me_,"

Frank smirked at me knowing that if he tried to argue, he would lose. I really wanted to pay for tonight, and he saw that in my eyes, so he agreed to let me.

"Well," he said, "Let's go!"

We both raced to the front door of the house, passing my mother up in the living room. "Gerard, honey!" She called, "Can you bring in the mail for me?"

"Sure, no problem, Mom," I turned the doorknob, and as the door opened, I was greeted with a blast of cool air. I jogged out and grabbed a stack of envelopes. Running back, I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk. I didn't fall, but I was knocked out of balance. I steadied myself back up again, and then I saw that Frankie was laughing his butt off in my doorway.

"Hey, what are you laughing at?" I said jokingly. I threw my arms up in question to Frank's hysterical reaction. I heard another burst of laughter come from Frank, then stuck my hands on my hips. I jutted one of my knees out to the side, and stood there pretending to be mad at him. Which he knew I wasn't.

He finally calmed down and wiped a happy-tear from under his eye. He walked over to me in a sexy way, but being playful as he did so. He jogged down the steps then continued his strut over to me. I was still in my 'cheerleader attitude' stance.

"Oooh," he sang, "You're just too sassy for me, Gee,"

I rolled my eyes at him; laughing at his sexy glare he gave me. We both erupted in laughter.

After our comedy show, I noticed the sky was a deep blue. Dark clouds speckled the sky, but they weren't threatening, and I knew it wasn't going to rain.

We both jogged back to my front door, which was still ajar, and entered my toasty home. I walked over the living room were mom was tucked in under a blanket, asleep. I left the envelopes on the coffee table.

Frank and I walked out of the house, and I grabbed my keys from their hanger by the light switch. Frankie was already by the car, and I met him there, unlocking the driver's door.

As I sat inside the car, I unlocked the passenger door, too. Frank felt for the handle then plopped down into the seat next to me. We smiled at each other as my car roared to life, and I pulled out of our driveway. As I turned onto the street, Frank grabbed my free hand and held it the whole ride there.


	6. I'm Just Here To Hold Organs

**Author's Note: I know this is a REALLY short chapter, don't hate me! I felt like I needed to put a little bit of Frank's side into it. It is needed with the way I'm using Gerard in the next chapter.**

FRANK'S POV:

The ride to the restaurant was the same as Gerard and I had shared on the bus earlier this morning. Silent. Comfortably silent.

I think we both also just wanted to save the chatter for dinner.

In the car, I shifted and squirmed a bit to keep my thighs from falling asleep. I decided to cross my left leg over my right until I go numb there. Gerard saw my antsy-ness and smiled a cute little smile at me.

And in that moment, life was perfect.

The way his eyes lit up when he watched me, the way his hair framed his perfect skin, the way his nose peeked up slightly at the tip, the way his hand held onto mine like it was the only thing left to hold… It was all too perfect. Too, too, perfect. Gerard was mine. What had I done to deserve him? I was just a big arrangement of skin designed to hold organs. Nothing special.

Now Gerard… Well he's a different story. He is the most special person to ever see, to hear, to feel, to _sense_. There isn't enough time in this world to describe his importance in my life.

Gerard turned the silver Impala into a half full (or half empty, however you see it) parking lot. We unbuckled out seat belts, and stood outside of the car. As I looked at the building, I saw Gerard pick up a small slip of paper from the floorboard.

"What's that?" I asked, nonchalant in doing so.

Gerard shrugged off my question and answered with three simple words, "Just some trash," Even though he played it off as unimportant, I saw him stuff the white paper into his right pocket. He shut the car door. I copied him.

As if like twins, we both looked at each other with an excited sigh and a look that said, "Here we go!"


	7. Modesty Is One Of My Many Fine Qualities

**Author's Note: Woo hoo, guess what guys? I'M NOT DEAD :D. Sorry that I disappeared like that on you, I went on vacation and yada yada yada... Anyways, enjoy! By The way, I know it's a little short but don't kill me. Thanks.**

GERARD'S POV:

What will Frankie say when he finds out that the "trash" was a note that said "617"? I didn't tell him… I just didn't want to ruin our night. Though my mind is plagued with the fact that some one was in my car, in my room, and messing with my clocks, I don't want to put more of that burden on to him. I decided to hide it from him until later on so we can have a semi-normal dinner.

Whoever – whatever – is watching us has a secret code that we can't crack. 617… what can that possibly mean? It can't be a time countdown because it obviously has not changed… Maybe it's a span of days? Are they going to kill us in 617 days?

I pushed the thought out of my mind and as far away as I could manage. I shoved the paper down into my jeans pocket. Walking into the restaurant, I grabbed onto Frank's hand and I squeezed tightly. He shot me a smile with glimmering eyes when a beautiful young woman greeted us both.

"Hi, my name is Lindsey," she started, looking at Frank adoringly. She smiled at him with a small grin, plastered with red lipstick. Her eyes then flickered to our intertwining fingers. The hostess – Lindsey – cleared her throat awkwardly then blinked a few times before her eyes met mine. They lingered there for a split second before she looked down at the carpeted floor and asked, "Table for two?"

So Lindsey likes my man, huh? That isn't going to go down too well, at least not on my watch. (Which by the way, speaking of watches, was still stuck on 6:17.)

"Yeah," he let out lowly, just to tease her desire for him. He shot me a side-glance begging me to let him mess with her head a bit. I approved by grinning back. "Can we have a table in a less… crowded place? Maybe in the back somewhere?"

"Sure, uh…" Lindsey said, "Sorry, I didn't catch your name…"

"Frank," he answered back, side-smiling at her, making her eyes melt under the pressure of his.

"Frank…" she exhaled the name, but not in too much of a flirty way. I rolled my eyes at her cheesy-ness. She knew there was something going on between us two. "Your table is right over there in the back, table 6."

Note how she never asked for my name. I think this goes without saying, but I was kind of jealous. But I got over that quickly as Frank pulled my seat out. I lowered myself so I was sitting across from him, and he was smiling like a geek.

I smiled at him, too, "What are you smirking at, pretty boy?"

Frank started having a nice little laugh, "I feel so bad, she liked me and I was teasing her!" He giggled again, evidently proud of himself.

"That was seriously hilarious though. 'Fraaaaank…'" I mocked Lindsey's voice in a high-pitched, singsong tone, dragging out Frank's name like she did, "It was funny but it almost made me want to puke!"

"I had to keep myself from laughing!" Frank joked.

Our dinner went on as usual, with Lindsey stopping by every ten or less minutes or so, to take our orders. I got the veggie burger and Frank ordered a salad. An ENORMOUS salad. He ate it all in a dare from me, betting five bucks he wouldn't do it. Such a small body with such a big stomach.

Frank and I had a great time. It was nice to just sit down with him and talk, laugh, and joke. We never had time to do that properly.

A muscle-y guy wearing a white apron came to our table to clear our dishes when Frank and I were holding hands across the table. He had amazing brown eyes that he used to wink at me with. He had a nice head of hair, sort of like an Afro, that suited him well. Don't get me wrong, he was very nice looking, but I was dating Frank, and no one could change that. Not even this guy.

"Hello, I'm Ray," he said, looking me in the eyes as he said so. He had seen Frank and me holding hands earlier, so he broke our eye contact after a little bit. That's too bad, I really liked his eye color.

"Gerard," I responded, smiling.

"Gerard, what a nice name. I'm here to clean up after you two, so is there anything else you'd like while I'm here?" He asked in a higher pitched voice, light heartedly.

I chuckled a bit before I answered, "The bill?"

"All right, I'll be out with it in just a second!" Ray turned to leave when Frank looked at me. I couldn't quite understand what to make of his expression.

"Are we that attractive? I get all the guys, and you get all the girls. Damn," I asked Frank, laughing.

Frank started to smile too, "I bet you the five bucks you gave me earlier, that Ray was straight before you walked in,"

"I wouldn't blame him," I laughed out loud.

Frank laughed too, "There's another reason why I love you. You're oh so humble," his sarcasm was thick and playful.

"Modesty is one of my many, many, many fine qualities," I giggled out.


	8. Mind Games

FRANK'S POV

That Ray guy with the 'fro liked Gerard. I could see it. Ha.

He was attractive and all, but I was dating Gerard, and nothing could change that. Not even this dude.

So we both had people to torture! It was great! I could play with what's-her-face's mind and Gerard could mess with Ray's head. Speaking of Ray's head, it was almost invisible from all of that _hair_.

I expressed my idea to Gee and he thought it was evil, but he loved it.

Ray came back to the table holding a black folder and a slip of paper. He handed me the slip of paper saying it was from Lindsey, and handed Gerard the bill.

Lindsey's phone number was scrawled out on the piece of paper. She dotted her I's with a heart. Original.

As Ray turned to leave Gerard winked at me and called after Ray.

"Sit down," he breathed to Ray with a smile.

Ray's face lit up and he hesitated as he slid a chair over from a nearby table and sunk into it.

"So, Ray… What kind of music do you like?" Gerard always had that question to start off a good conversation. You can tell a lot about someone just by the music they listen to, but we both never make that the reason why we like or dislike someone. But it still plays a role.

"Well," I could already tell he feels a little embarrassed to admit it, "I like Metallica and Iron Maiden…"

"Great choice, both amazing! I really like Morrissey and The Smiths and Black Flag, all of them. Smashing Pumpkins, Misfits, you name it," Gerard said very enthusiastically, running his hands through his black hair, boiling up a plan, "Ugh, I hate my hair. Frankie, what should I do with it?"

"I don't know, Gee… I like running my hands through your hair. I'd hate to see it gone," Ray so hates me right now, I swear. I smiled as I reached over the table to mess upGee's already-messy locks.

"Gah, you bitch! There's a science to making my hair casually messed up!" He laughed and Ray giggled as Gerard smoothed his hair down.

"And what's that science called? Never-buy-a-brush-ology?" I threw my head back and laughed, as did Gee and Ray, "What do you think, Ray?"

"I don't know, chop it all off and dye it white? Opposite than it is now?"

Hm. Not a bad idea coming from the guy who wanted my man.

"Genius!" Gerard seemed to like it too. I nodded at him.

"Okay, well nice talking to you, Gerard. I have to go back to my shift. See you, Frank!" Ray waved back at us as he placed his chair back in its original spot. We waved and smiled back as well.

"Oh this is gonna be fun," I beamed at Gerard. He mirrored my smile then his slightly faded.

He looked over my right shoulder and whispered, "Speak of the devil," he leaned back casually and sipped his drink.

"Hi Frankie!"

"Whoa!" My drink went flying off the table, with me not far behind, and landed on the floor with a thud. "Shit, gah… Ow."

"Oh I'm so sorry, did I scare you Frankie?" Lindsey reached down to help me up when Gerard mumbled.

"What gave it away, Sherlock?"

"No it's okay," I said as dreamily as possible, "It was nothing." I gave some effort into staring into her eyes that were painted over with eye shadow. She basically melted again as I steadied myself on my feet. Gerard was immediately by my side, pushing Lindsey out the way.

"Frankie, don't scare me like that again, love," Gerard winked again and pulled me in for a full on kiss on the lips while grabbing me be the shirt.

Lindsey stormed off, defeated.

"That was genius!" I whispered to Gerard, "I would've never have thought of that! I was just gonna like hold your hand or something but I bet you got her blood boiling more than ever! You, Gee, are amazing!"

"No time for that," he rushed, "We have to find out what 617 means," he flashed the piece of trash from earlier in front of my eyes, "Now."

He pulled me out of the restaurant by my hand and we stumbled into the car, not bothering to wait for our change from Ray.

On the ride home Gerard was a little frantic, going over the speed limit and breathing heavily, as if something were after him. As far as I know, there could be something after us.

"What could it mean? A date? A time? A code?" he stammered, his voice shaky and quick, "I don't care how ridiculous your ideas are, I need anything to help me find out what the hell 617 means,"

"Letters? Did you try letters?"

"W-What do you mean, Frankie," he dodged someone on the highway, accelerating.

"The numbers, do they correspond with any letters? Maybe six could be 's', one could be 'o', and seven could be 's'? That leaves us with SOS. SOS?" I rambled out not thinking.

"No it can't be a cry for help, if anyone needed help, why would they be watching us and following us? Not it," he pressed his palm to his hair and grabbed a handful of it, "Come on, think. Think, think, think," he muttered some words under his breath and I couldn't understand him.

"Gerard," I tapped his shoulder.

"Not now," he waved me off and returned to his uttering.

"But Gerard-" I started.

"What Frankie?"

"You passed up Salter Street,"


	9. Do I Know You?

GERARD'S POV

By the time I swung the car back around and turned down my street, I finally calmed down. I felt bad for blowing up on him like that on our anniversary, the day we were supposed to have no worries.

I looked over at him and sighed, smiling. He looked up at me and bit his cheek while smirking. With another sigh, I focused on the road where some idiot was walking right out of nowhere.

I slammed the breaks and my car let out an eerie screech as Frank and I were lashed forward into the dashboard. A couple of gasps and head-hits later, we both stared at each other, in pain.

Holding my forehead, I examined Frankie's face. It was one of shock and bruises, redness marking his cheek and nose. It made him flinch as he prodded at his face.

I let go of my head and scanned my fingers. Blood. My fingertips were drenched in the crimson. I felt my nose start to tickle when drops of red dripped from the tip. Frank looked at me, wide-eyed, and then my vision doubled. It morphed back to normal when he started talking.

"Gerard are you okay? Oh God, do you need to go to the hospital?" He rambled.

"Wha- who are you?" His heart broke when he heard this, I could see it on his face.

"What do you mean, Gerard, I'm Frank! Your boyfriend for a whole year!" He started to cry and his chin started to tremble. He put his hand on my neck and stroked it.

"I know that you're Frank, but I just don't know anything else. What just happened? Tell me!" Tears started to fall from my eyes as well and I was beginning to get frustrated. There was so much missing from my mind, I didn't even feel human.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man – apparently the man we almost hit – running away. Frankie started to sob, covering his face with both of his hands.

"This can't be happening…" I heard him mumble through his tattooed fingers.

"Don't cry, Frankie," Though I wasn't doing a good job of it myself, "I remember how much I love you. The only thing I remember about you is your name, and that I love you so much, it makes my head hurt because I can't remember what made me feel this way about you. But it's so genuine, I can't explain how strongly I feel."

I gripped my head once again and cringed. Frank looked up and his eyeliner smeared down his cheek. He wiped his nose with the back of his skeleton glove then sniffled.

"Gerard, I love you too. We need to get you to a hospital, okay?"

He didn't stop crying the whole ride there, the whole time he bandaged up my head with a towel from the backseat, or the whole time in the waiting room at the hospital.

I wondered if someone could actually care this much about someone else, then I realized they could. Because I didn't stop crying either. I didn't stop because I knew how much was missing from my head, and I can't remember a single thing about the man I loved so much. I didn't stop because all 365 days I spent with him are gone. All I know is feelings and names. The rest is just blank, black in my mind.

Finally, our eyes ran dry as we both sat in beige chairs in confining blue walls.

What I did know was that I felt sleepy. So sleepy, as the doctor took my blood pressure.

"Wait, when did I get into a hospital bed? I was just in the waiting room," I said to Frank, who was twiddling his thumbs, impatient, as the doctor pumped the cuff up.

"You have a concussion, a serious one at that, Mr. Way," the doctor started, "You seem to have lost everything except names and feelings,"

"Well, I know that much, but why don't I remember walking in here?" I was starting to get mad at Professor Obvious M.D. when he starts to say something I actually don't already know.

Yes, I know I have a short temper.

"As a result of your concussion, you will have periodic blanks, where you won't remember a single thing in that part in time. These will go away while you rest here," he nonchalantly explained, as if I were a normal and boring case.

But on the other hand, he seemed friendly and comfortable, almost understanding, as he hung the cuff on a rack filled with electronic things. He leaned up against the bed, making the paper on it crumple and folded his arms.

"You're going to have to stay here for about a week, is that okay?" Frank said blankly.

I was taken back by his tone. He didn't look at me in the eyes. He seemed as if he didn't want to see me or he would start crying again, which made me want to cry too.

"I'm sorry, Frankie-" I trailed off.

"No, it's okay," he forced himself to look at me and smile, even though his eyes fluttered away again, "At least you remember how you feel about me. That's all I need,"

I pursed my lips and blinked back tears, "Doctor, is my memory loss permanent?"

"It most probably is, Mr. Way, I'm sorry," he joined the rest of us in staring at the gray and blue specked carpet, "But I will tell you this. Mr. Iero here told me a lot about you two. What a sweet story you've got. This relationship is one worth hanging on to for a long time, and that goes for both of you. Never let go of what really matters. Happy anniversary you two,"

I looked at his face and I thought I saw a single tear fall from his eyes.

"I'm going to go to the front office to assign you a room, you can go back into the waiting room if you'd like," With that, he left.

When the doctor wouldn't look at either of us, I knew we had hit something personal in him. It was sad, seeing that man in maybe his early forties crying. And instantly, I knew I didn't want to be him in the future.

I assumed that he had his heart broken, the way he talked to us. I don't want Frankie and I to be like that, ever.

And even though I had no idea who the man across from me was, I knew I'd never let him go.


	10. The Old Days Tie In With The New?

FRANK'S POV

It's been three days since the accident and I'm worried. I don't even know how I feel right now. All those times I've spent with him, and he can't remember anything.

But he says he knows he loves me… Does he? He could just be trying to spare my feelings…

But then how did he know to do that if he didn't know if he loved me or not?

This whole thing is stressing me out… I better go check on him.

"Mom, I'm going to see how Gerard's doing, I'll be back tonight, okay?" I said to my mother, and smiled.

I guess she could tell that I was still a bit shaken up by what happened and she kicked into mom-mode, "Honey, it will be okay… I'm sure his memory will return! Even if it doesn't, it's a chance to start new, make better and newer memories with him. I think you should look at this whole thing a bit more positively, Frankie. All will be okay."

Her eyes showed sympathy and her grin emitted comfort and reassurance. All in all, I trusted her to the core. So I smiled back at her.

"You're right, mom. Thank you," I walked two steps to the chair in which she sat, and kissed her forehead, "Love you,"

"That's my boy," she stated, "Love you too, Frank,"

As I turned around to the door and grabbed by keys, she returned to her newspaper and tea. The usual. Halfway out of the front door, I heard her yell out, "Uh, be careful out there son, there's a serial killer they haven't caught yet, just be aware, alright?"

I waved, not looking back, "Yeah, alright mom, I'll see you tonight!"

When I arrived to the help desk a young woman, a familiar face, pointed me to Gerard's newly assigned room. He had to change it before too, for someone in more need of the room than himself.

On our walk to the emergency room, I couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you Lindsey? From the restaurant?" An older doctor bumped into my arm and apologized.

"Yes, I didn't think you were going to recognize me!" She chuckled, "I was waiting for you to ask that. I work here too; I needed the extra money from the restaurant as well. I heard what happened to Gerard, and I'm so sorry that happened… If you need anything, you can always call me with that number I left you,"

Lindsey smiled her lipstick smile, spreading flirtatiously across her face, and then she stopped. "Well, here we are…" she sighed through a small smile, "Room 617, Mr. Way,"

Time stopped. 617. This couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? My eyes grew wide with terror, and Lindsey noticed.

"Are you alright, Frank? What's wrong?" Her eyes tried to search mine for a sign of finding me, but I wasn't there.

I unglued my view from the tile and looked at her for a moment then looked back down. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for showing me the room, Lindsey."

"No problem," she smirked sympathetically, and then out of nowhere, she hugged me. A friendly hug. The kind that says 'I like you and all, but I understand you're in a relationship, and I'm sorry' if that makes sense. "Remember I'm always here for you,"

"Thanks," was all I could whisper. I turned, drained of energy, towards the door of Gerard's room. I slowly turned the knob and slid open the door.

I felt like a zombie. A scared, terrified, lifeless, pale zombie. But when Gerard fluttered his eyes open and looked at me, I smiled.

So did he. "Frankie, baby…" he whispered.

"Hi, how are you feeling?" I said, as if talking to a baby. I paced over, next to his white bed and sat in a slippery chair that rested beside him.

"I'm so tired but they wont let me sleep yet. Only ten minutes at a time. They said I could go into a coma if I sleep too long," he turned his head to the opposite side of me and I followed his gaze.

A nurse. I didn't notice her before, so I smiled a small smile at her.

"I'll just leave you two alone. Keep him awake, if he falls asleep, call for me, or hit that button, okay?" She smiled and pointed to a medium sized red button that read 'call for nurse' on the top.

"Capish!" I grinned wider and shot her a thumbs up, as she shut the door behind her.

The room grew darker as the wooden hospital door thumped shut. Then silence.

I stood up halfway to kiss a sleepy Gerard on the lips for a moment then looked at him. "Hey baby," I whispered onto his face.

"Hey," he smirked without any teeth, "Can you do me a favor?"

I sat back down and said, "Of course, Gee, anything!"

"Okay good, because I wrote down every name I could remember, and I want to know who they are. Can you help me out?" He reached over to a drawer that rested next to his bed and pulled out a large notepad. He clicked a pen and got ready for me to tell him everything I know.

"Yeah, sure, who you got?" I crossed my legs and leaned back in my leather chair, making it screech. We both giggled at this.

"Well, I know who my mom and dad are, they came and visited yesterday, so I have them down, but who is Mikey?"

I cast my eyes down. I knew he was going to ask that.

"I know for some reason I feel close to him. But why does his name make me want to cry? Every time I think about him, I tear up. I don't know why."

I sighed then looked at him, "Mikey… was your brother."

"Was?" His mouth hung open just a bit as realization came over him. He closed his mouth then his eyes glistened with forming tears. "He's dead?"

"Gerard, Mikey died a year and seven days ago, four days before we got together. You both were so close, like no one could separate you. You'd share everything, cassette tapes, comic books, movies. You'd draw for him all the time then… Then a pair of burglars shot him in a bank robbery. A girl and a guy, a couple out to steal money. Everyone called them the modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

"Your brother was brave. He stood up to them, and protected a few small children. He took their bullets. Before they shot him, they asked if he had a final request. You know what he said?" I smiled though my cheeks were streaked with tears.

"W-what did M-Mikey say…?" he was almost sobbing hearing the story as if it were the first time he had heard it. I guess technically it was the first time, for him.

"He said to them, 'Tell my brother I love him with all my heart. I'm finally a hero, just like in the comic books we used to read. I'm finally the hero we both wanted to be, the hero he inspired me to be. Make sure he knows I'm dying happy and proud. Now shoot me.'

"He said t-that?" Gerard said between breaths.

I smiled at him again, "His exact words. I was there. It happened all too quickly for me to stop him, plus I was forced to the ground, so I didn't know he had gone over to the children. We were there to get money out of his account to buy your mom a gift for her birthday.

"I will never forget the look on his face when they shot him. He looked strong. He had no regret of what he did. The town called him a hero, and his school made a memorial for him. But something happened afterwards that was a little weird,"

"W-what…?" Gerard wiped off a couple tears and tried to recover from his sadness.

"There was a cassette and a note the next day on your kitchen table. The recording of your brothers last words. The note said something that could only be left by the Bonnie and Clyde couple. It said something along the lines of 'Tell your fag of a son that we did him a favor. He should be grateful that we recorded his brother's last words for him. And yeah, he's gay. We do our research. But I'm sure you're aware of that.' And that was it. They were never caught.

"They're still on the run. Since then, your family has been scared stiff, and they set up a bunch of security systems around the house since then, so you're safe," I shot him a small grin as he tried to digest all of this new information.

"Oh… Okay… So everything's okay, right? Nothing suspicious?" I instantly remembered the whole 617 thing and bit my cheek. His eyes glowed brightly, illuminated by the setting sun from the drawn window.

I stood up and leaned down on top of his face, "Well, I would be lying if I said no, but let's leave that for another day, okay Gee?"

I engulfed him in a longing kiss, our mouths moving with each other. I felt his hand grab my hair and pull me closer to him. After a minute, I pulled away and looked into those hazel-golden eyes, outlined in a ring of eyeliner that's three days old, and smeared on his face from the earlier crying session. I must have looked the same way, except less magnificent.

"Okay. Maybe tomorrow, you can tell me about that and about stuff that happened between us?" His face looked hopeful.

"Yes, of course, is there anything you need?" I slid my hand into my pocket and felt a piece of paper. I pulled it out and examined the writing. 617.

Oh God. I pursed my lips and hid my inflating horror. I put it back into my pocket, however it got there. How, though? Why? God, I was so mad at the world. Why was all of this happening to me? To Gerard?

"Yes, actually, could you stay the night here?" I looked at him and he was staring at the ceiling with his arms on his stomach. He hadn't noticed the paper. Good.

"O-of course, I'll go get the nurse for you, I'm getting tired."

He nodded and shut his eyes halfway, letting me know he was tired too.

After I got the nurse I settled down on the unoccupied bed across from his. Tomorrow will be a long, long day. I finally shut my eyes and got to sleep a bit.


	11. Thanks For The Memories

GERARD'S POV

I woke up for the hundredth time that night, due to the nurse's duty to keep me from slipping into a coma. This time, when I opened my eyes, the sun was shining brightly through a small crack in the curtains. I looked at the bed frank fell asleep in and it was empty.

I sat up halfway to scan the room. Nothing. I felt something shuffle next to me, and my eyes land on a small figure curled up next to my legs, their head laying on my lap.

Leaning down, I stroked his hair back, revealing his face so I could kiss his lips. Frank smiled when he woke up to my face next to his. I smiled back, but it disappeared when his eyes got misty.

"Why are you crying Frankie?" I gave my most concerned face at his dampening eyes, a black eyeliner tear running down.

"You… Before the accident, you always woke me up that way when we fell asleep together. Kissing me awake." He cracked a smile, his eyes staring at nothing. Reminiscing, it seemed like.

"Yeah I know that. Why are you crying all of the sudden?" He was acting really weird. Crying? Why?

I always woke him up that way. Always. He's acting like I don't remember anyth- wait. I remember it. I remember it!

Both of our eyes got wide at the realization of my new found memories. "QUICK! Quiz me on my life!" I giggled, excited that all of it was back. I felt complete again.

"Um, okay, when is your birthday?"

"April 9, 1977," I smiled through the words.

Frank grinned too, sitting up next to me, asking me more random questions, all of which I got right. Questions ranging from inside jokes him and I have to the current president.

Even the nurse was dumbfounded, gaping at my knowledge. She rushed out to get the doctor, returning moments later with the same man who examined me a week ago. He didn't know how it happened either.

I didn't even notice the doctor and the nurse rambling on about a scientific explanation to my brain all of a sudden working again. All I paid attention to was Frank, the man I spent a year and four days with, who I know everything about. I didn't even know how I spent four days not knowing anything. How I survived without my mind. I felt like a lost child.

But that was all over. The overwhelming joy filled in me, and in my happiness I snatched Frank's face and pulled it to mine, so I could kiss him like I never have. So I could kiss him like I knew him.

Feeling him smile through the kiss was enough to make me cry happy tears. "Aw's" from the two others in the room made me blush, as he looked me deep in the eyes. "You don't know how good it is to have you back, Gerard,"

We exchanged a smile, and my cheeks began to hurt a little bit, to be honest. But before I could hug Frank again, the doctor cut us off.

"If I might intrude," he smiled at us, "To tell you both the truth, we were absolutely sure Mr. Way here was going to have his memory gone forever. It was almost certain. And we have no idea how this could have happened, or if your concussion is even healed yet. So if it's okay with you and your parents, Gerard, I would like to run another scan on you. Maybe do a reflex test, too, just to make sure you're okay to check outta here,"

I didn't care how many tests they had to perform on me. As long as I had my memory back, I was content.

I turned back to Frank and leaned my forehead against his. I responded to the doctor, but it seemed like I was talking to Frank. "I don't care," I exhaled.

I noticed the doctor was talking again, so turned back to him. All I caught was the last bit, "…contact your parents and let them know the dates of your scans, okay?"

"Sounds great. Hey, what's your name again? You must have told me when I had one of those periodic blanks," I trailed off, trying hard to remember it.

He grinned a little and said, "Dr. Armstrong. But I hate titles, so you could just call me Billie Joe. Or Billie. Doesn't matter. Call if you need anything, Mr. Way,"

"Thanks… Uh, Billie!" he walked out of the room and the nurse followed.

The door thumped lightly and the silence was sealed in the room. It seemed like the room was an airtight bag, concealing only quiet, because we both knew what was coming next.

"We still need to find out what-" I cut Frank off quickly.

"What 617 means? Yeah I know."

After about five minutes in that silence, I was sure my guess was right. It didn't take me long to figure it out since Frank had just re-told me Mikey's story yesterday. I always blocked out his story as much as possible. I never wanted to think of it, hear of it, or even remember it. In the past year and 8 days, I lived in complete denial. I shoved the thought of him out of my mind as far as it possibly could go so I wouldn't think of him.

As a result, I didn't link him with any of this new 617 stuff going on in fear it might be true. But now that I think about it, the Bonnie and Clyde knew where we lived, and so did these 617 people. What if Mikey's murderers were after me now? They were never caught, so it's a possibility. On the day of Mikey's death, the security cameras weren't working. There were no cameras to capture them on tape. If they found a way to do that to a bank, I'm sure they could manage to disable a house alarm system.

All I knew was that these two… things were related. Same people. I also was sure on what 617 means too. The sixth letter in the alphabet is F, first is A, and seventh is G. Fag. How original.

I voiced all of this out to Frank who sat there horrified at the realization of this whole connection. When I told him what 617 means he just scoffed.

"If they wanted to offend us, they could have used something we haven't heard a million times. Plus, why'd they make us go all Sherlock Holmes to find out they just wanted to call you a fag?"

"That's not the point, they wanted us to know that they're back. The people who killed Mikey are back. For me. And I don't know who they are or how they even know I'm gay in the first place."

Frank slouched down and looked at his folded legs, "I should tell you… You're in room 617. And I found this in my pocket. Not sure how it got there." He reached into his pocket and smoothed out a piece of paper. I didn't have to read it to know what it said. I sighed. "And to top it all off, Lindsey works here! That's just great, I have to worry about all of this plus an obnoxious girl who won't leave me alone when I clearly-"

"Wait," I stopped his rant short, "I'm in room 617? And Lindsey works here? Haven't you realized this isn't just coincidence yet?"

"I'm slow," he shrugged and grinned.

"Not the time for humor, Frank. Lindsey could be Bonnie. She could be the one who killed Mikey! We're running out of time, and I have a plan,"


End file.
